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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/27940400">This Ain’t A Scene, It’s A Goddamn Arms Race</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/DiveIn_HeadFirst_CantLose/pseuds/DiveIn_HeadFirst_CantLose'>DiveIn_HeadFirst_CantLose</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>All Elite Wrestling</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>AU, Adam loves Kenny, I Tried, I Wrote This Instead of Sleeping, I don’t even know what this is, I went back and rewatched Full Gear 2019, Im not that happy with it, Kenny misses Kota, M/M, Sort Of, The Cleaner - Freeform, The Cleaner is a Split Personality, matt and Nick are worried, trying and failing to write a match without sexual tension, trying to get better at writing matches</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-12-07</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-12-07</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-10 22:34:53</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Mature</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>Graphic Depictions Of Violence</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>4,536</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/27940400</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/DiveIn_HeadFirst_CantLose/pseuds/DiveIn_HeadFirst_CantLose</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>My take on Kenny Omega and Jon Moxley’s match at Full Gear 2019. </p>
<p>Matt and Nick are worried that their friend is going too far, Adam is terrified his boyfriend will get hurt, and Kenny is desperate to show everyone that though he may have left his heart in Japan, he didn’t leave his talent.</p>
<p>And, because nothing ever does for the Elite, things don’t go according to plan.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Ibushi Kota/Kenny Omega, Kenny Omega/Adam Page</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>8</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>18</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>This Ain’t A Scene, It’s A Goddamn Arms Race</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>So I went back and watched Full Gear 2019 and was consumed with the urge to write my own take on the match! </p>
<p>I couldn’t help but get a little soft at the end because I needed to end on a nicer note. I’m trying to develop my skills as a writer and I got to play with a lot in this piece!</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>"Kenny, are you sure about this?" Matt said, gently, wrapping the barbed wire around the frame. He frowned at his friend, who was focused hard on making sure the structure was sound, and cutting any of the stray pieces of wire.</p>
<p>"Absolutely. I need this. I need to win this." Kenny insisted, voice flat and empty. Determined.</p>
<p>"You know how insane this is, don't you?" Nick piped up from his spot in the centre, weaving the wire into an elaborate web.</p>
<p>"If I want to win, I need to play his game." </p>
<p>"I'm really worried about you, Kenny. You miss Kota-" </p>
<p>"Don't say his name!-" Kenny interrupted, looking up from his hands, but Matt didn't stop.</p>
<p>"and you're trying to distract from that by zeroing in on this feud. It's gone way too fa-"</p>
<p>"Matt, that's enough!" Kenny interrupted.</p>
<p>"This isn't good, Kenny! I've caught you talking to... him. This is messing with your head. This has to-</p>
<p>Kenny snapped. "STOP IT. The only thing either of you should be worrying about is getting this out by the ramp when I give the signal."</p>
<p>Both of them just looked down. Nick was the only one of the two to speak.</p>
<p>"It's your funeral."</p>
<p>The rest of the time leading up to the match was spent in an uncomfortable silence.</p>
<p>———</p>
<p>The match had finally begun. Too dangerous to sanction, too treacherous to take responsibility for.</p>
<p>A lights-out match. Anything goes.</p>
<p>Kenny Omega studied his opponent from the corner of the ring, approaching only gradually. He was up on the balls of his feet, light and mobile, not wanting to be caught off guard.</p>
<p>Moxley mimicked his movements, like it was a game. Eventually they were opposite each other, just inches apart, noses almost touching. Neither of them moved for a moment. </p>
<p>This situation was a ticking time bomb, and the air was thick with unrest. But to each of them, nothing else mattered, but standing right here.</p>
<p>Eyeball to Eyeball, waiting to see who would blink first.</p>
<p>"You don't have what it takes, Omega." Mox said, almost growled. "This was a mistake." </p>
<p>Kenny stood his ground, knees bent slightly as Moxley began circle him. He felt like a rabbit, cornered by the fox. He could feel his heart already thundering behind his ribcage, and the sweet adrenaline singing through his veins. </p>
<p>"You're scared." Moxley insisted, and Kenny scrambled to find words. It wasn't a lie, of course Kenny was afraid. He thrived on fear, he'd built a career out of it. </p>
<p>He'd built a career, he'd built fame, all upon on trapping himself in a corner. In fight or flight with nowhere to run, and no choice but to fight with every bit of strength his heart, body, and soul could offer.</p>
<p>Kenny knew this situation well. It wasn't a battle of what their bodies could do. It was an elaborate mind game. A test of just how much their minds could take, how well they could cope with the pain. This was a test of the spirit.</p>
<p>This was a test of the soul. </p>
<p>"I'm not. I'm not scared of you." He denied, lunging forward in a lame attempt at an attack. His arms felt heavy and weak and foreign, like he was dreaming. </p>
<p>Moxley barely had to try to grab the fist he lashed out with, twisting his arm behind him and pushing up, and Kenny sharply sucked in a breath at the pain of the hold. Moxley's chest was pressed against the arm behind his back as he spoke again, right into his ear, and Kenny felt a shiver creep up his spine.</p>
<p>"You don't have the killer instinct for this." Moxley spat, and the words made Kenny's knees feel weak to the point of buckling. </p>
<p>He had long since adjusted to harsh words, but when everything in his life felt so unstable and vulnerable, the words hit hard. </p>
<p>It was true. Kenny didn't have that killer instinct. But he knew someone who did. He'd fallen out with them some time ago, and yet, he had stuck around. Like a song that stays stuck in your head, he just wouldn't go away. </p>
<p>He supposed that there was no better time than right now to tie up the loose ends. He just prayed that it would make him go away. He prayed that he would even be able to go away at all.</p>
<p>Kenny managed to reverse the move, getting Moxley into a front waist-lock. His grip wasn't quite strong enough, though, and Mox twisted, pulling Kenny into a headlock.</p>
<p>"Have you forgotten what you have walked into?" The taller man asked, but Kenny was hardly listening, focusing on finding his opportunity to fight back.</p>
<p>He saw an opening and slammed his elbow into Moxley's gut, causing him to release the hold. He ran for the ropes, ricocheting off them and leaping into what he called the 'V-Trigger'. A sharp knee strike to the head. </p>
<p>It caught Moxley under the chin, connecting with an almost sickening crack, and his head rocked back, eyes looking vacant for a moment.</p>
<p>"Have you forgotten who we are?" Kenny announced at the moment of impact, a hint of the Cleaner in his sick smile. </p>
<p>It was like a switch had been flicked. The realisation of the use of the word 'we' dragged Jon back to reality, and his eyes locked with Kenny's. </p>
<p>The Cleaner's hardened eyes, that had once held the light of hope and salvation, now brought only emptiness. Eyes frozen over, like the surface of a winter puddle, robbing them of their usual warmth. But they were still bright; alive with electric energy.</p>
<p>Their color had only moments ago had been the colour of the horizon, where the blue of the ocean blended into the blue of the sky, but now they were simply chilling. Paler than before, and glassy, but still burning with excitement, eagerly awaiting his opportunity to finally have control after being cooped up inside Kenny's head for so long. </p>
<p>There was something solemn swimming in his eyes. The stunning, deep blue held a truth that his face could not hide. The despairing chill that they held showed only one truth.</p>
<p>Moxley fell to the rough canvas. The world was spinning as he tried to push up onto his hands and knees, not wanting to show any vulnerability, even for a split second. </p>
<p>"Who I am?" He continued, as he stood over Moxley, stepping on his hand with the heel of his boot and grinding down, twisting.</p>
<p>Jon could have sworn he saw aviator sunglasses on Kenny's face, but as soon as he tried to look, they were gone. He refused to let out even the smallest whimper, and out of frustration, the Cleaner relented.</p>
<p>Kenny waited for him to get up before leaping into a perfect missile dropkick. It wasn't pretty, the way the heel of his boot connected with the man's jaw. He scrambled up the ropes to the top turnbuckle, performing a perfect moonsault. Flawless execution. </p>
<p>"We are Kenny Omega."</p>
<p>He dragged Moxley to his feet from behind, and positioning his arms, dropping him on his head in a snapdragon suplex, before rolling through and repeating the move. He left Moxley to lay there as he slid out of the ring, locating one of the many weapons in the space beneath the ring. </p>
<p>He tossed his weapon of choice into the ring, sliding himself back in. The very thing that he had slid under the ring during the preparations.</p>
<p>A barbed wire wrapped broom. He grabbed the broom, and looked down at it. A wistful, fond smile on his face, as if he were looking at an old friend.</p>
<p>"We are the Cleaner." He declared, swinging it down onto the man's back. He could feel the barbs clinging onto the flesh of Moxley's back, leaving fresh, open lacerations and filling the air with the scent of copper. </p>
<p>He hesitated for a moment. The Cleaner vanished, and Kenny looked down at what he was doing, and realised what a mistake he had made. This was Moxley's turf. This was the personal hell he had chosen for himself, this agony was the place he had chosen to hide from anything that troubled him.</p>
<p>The broom is in his hands, and it suddenly feels far too heavy to lift. </p>
<p>This was too far. This was too much. He wasn't going to let the Cleaner destroy what he had worked so goddamn hard to rebuild. Kenny flickered for a moment.</p>
<p>"I don't want your help." He thought, his only way to communicate with them.</p>
<p>"But you called for me, Kenny. I can see right through you. Do it. You want this. I understand, you want to know how this feels. So do it. It feels so good to be bad, Kenny..."</p>
<p>"Come on, Kenny. Hit me." Moxley laughed slightly as he spoke, and something about it made Kenny feel a bit nauseous.</p>
<p>He raised it, and faltered for a split second too long. No. He didn't want this.</p>
<p>"Come on!" Moxley roared at him making him flinch slightly. Kenny flickered again, but this time his grip on reality slipped from his fingers, as his usually soft, smiling eyes glass over.</p>
<p>That frozen fire glowed in his eyes. Kenny Omega was now the Cleaner, and there was no going back.</p>
<p>He gently placed the dangerous weapon down on the ground, the broom end where the wire was resting on his opponent's back. Moxley let out yet another bitter laugh, unaware of just what had happened when he had looked away.</p>
<p>"See? I told you this was a mistake. You don't have the guts-" Jon started, smugly.</p>
<p>He was interrupted by his own scream as Kenny stood on the broom end, applying pressure on the spiked wire. The barbs couldn't penetrate his thick-soled boots, but they could absolutely penetrate the skin of his opponent.</p>
<p>The man beneath his boot thrashed and struggled. The more he struggled, the more the barbs tore at the flesh on Moxley's back, causing even more damage. </p>
<p>Kenny looked down at him with a sadistic smile. His eyes were ablaze. That intense and bright, yet glazed over look which Jon had only seen on the tapings of his matches as the Cleaner was right in front of him.</p>
<p>It was far more chilling up close. </p>
<p>Mercifully, Kenny stepped off him. Jon gasped for air, needing every breath, just hoping Kenny would put the damned thing down. He thought that Kenny wouldn't have the spirit for this.</p>
<p>It had dawned on him far too late, that as long as The Cleaner was around, he was far from safe. But, like an idiot, he had agreed to an unsanctioned match, where Kenny could literally kill him if he chose to.</p>
<p>Jon almost whimpered as Kenny gripped the broom handle, before pulling the broom back towards him, barbs dragging over the already tender flesh, hitting all the now exposed nerves. </p>
<p>He slammed his fist into the canvas as he tried to arch away from the pain. He felt pathetic. He needed to get his shit together and he damn well knew it. He cursed under his breath. </p>
<p>Kenny had gone to rummage through the other weapons. Moxley smiled, but there was an edge of frustration. The nerve. The sheer arrogance. </p>
<p>He grabbed the nearest weapon he could get a decent grip on. A steel folding chair. Sleek and elegant and unforgiving. Almost like Kenny.</p>
<p>When Jon slammed the heavy chair into Kenny's skull, the other man dropped the chain he had been clutching in his hand. His new weapon of choice. </p>
<p>He swung the chair sideways so it impacted Kenny's back. He dropped to his knees, back arching. He was grimacing, teeth gritted together. </p>
<p>Revenge was a sweet, sweet feeling.</p>
<p>The rhythmic clattering was almost musical as Moxley hit him over and over. He was relentless in his assault, feeling as if he were on far more even ground than he was before.</p>
<p>It wasn't a pretty sight. Kenny's pained groans and almost pitiful cries, the sickening crash of steel on his back. It was gritty and ruthless and fucked up but felt so right that it was hard to stop. Kenny wasn't bloody yet, but he would see to that fact later.</p>
<p>The painted steel shimmered in the glare of the stage lights, and as he rose the chair to strike again, a wrist grabbed his ankle and tugged and he staggered back. It had almost landed him on his already torn up back.</p>
<p>The Cleaner got to his feet quickly, despite the pain. The golden chain was wrapped around his fist as he threw a stiff punch to Moxley's jaw.</p>
<p>For a minute or so, he had no clue where he was, who he was, or what was happening. </p>
<p>Kenny was doubling up the chain, so he was holding each end in his grip. It was the perfect length to use as a whip.</p>
<p>Everything rushed back to Jon as the steel chain clashed against his already bloodied back. The welts immediately began to rise on the parts of his back that were still intact, but it didn't end there. Over and over. </p>
<p>Mox had felt all this before. This had been his profession. The most violent matches he could conjure.</p>
<p>He took some deep breaths, reminding himself that he still had the advantage. This was his domain, and though the Cleaner had this undying aggression that was almost terrifying to behold, this was Jon's turf. Moxley has experience to outweight Kenny's passion.</p>
<p>He was by the ropes, so he rolled out, taking the chance and falling the distance between the ring apron and the ground. It hurt, but not nearly enough as the chain would if it hit him again.</p>
<p>Kenny dropped the chain and joined him on the outside. Mox sprang up, sending him straight through the barricade with a move that was almost like a rugby tackle. The metal bent and caved, leaving Kenny sprawled on his back, the warped metal pressing into the forming bruises.</p>
<p>Kenny scrambled back to his feet and the two traded punches. Moxley let the adulation of the crowd fuel him, let the cheers of the people who believed in him melt the pain away, sending it to the back of his mind.</p>
<p>He threw the other man back into the ring, and slid in after him. He hooked both of his arms under Kenny's, perfectly positioning the move so that the Cleaner would land head first on the heavy chain. It would slow his momentum, without a doubt.</p>
<p>The sound of the impact was almost sickening. He got up, pacing the ring and enjoying the cheers of the crowd, letting that warm, beautiful adrenaline sing in his bloodstream, chasing that high which was the reason he ever got started in this profession.</p>
<p>He looked away for too long though. He'd let the adrenaline blind him to the reality of the potentially deadly situation and equally deadly consequences of making a single misstep. </p>
<p>Something heavy and metallic collided with the back of his head. He felt himself falling in slow motion, the canvas rushing up to meet him as he tumbled. Kenny tossed the now-dented trash-can lid aside, picking up the actual can, and positioning it. He picked Jon up and threw him back down in a sit-out powerbomb, and the metal crumpled, warping and digging into his back.</p>
<p>Kenny acsended the ropes, executing a perfect moonsault, his landing pushing all the air out of Moxley's lungs, leaving him hopelessly gasping.</p>
<p>"I'll give you some pity, at least this way I won't get bored of kicking your ass." </p>
<p>The arrogance was evident in his voice, as he tossed an object towards Moxley, before walking away to look out at the croud. </p>
<p>Jon reached out, disorientated and confused to the point of barely being able to see. His ring-calloused hands grazed the rough canvas, searching for whatever had been given to him. </p>
<p>His hands finally closed around it, and he smiled, picking up the object.</p>
<p>He found that is was a wire-wrapped weapon of his own. </p>
<p>A black aluminium baseball bat. It was heavy in his hands. Not quite solid, but certainly not totally hollow. </p>
<p>He ran a finger across some of the barbs, not caring as his finger began to bleed. They were razor sharp, and slightly curved in a way that meant the weapon would be hard to remove without causing even more damage. He laughed darkly.</p>
<p>Perfect for revenge. </p>
<p>When Kenny turned back around, he swung like he was trying to cut down a tree. The Cleaner cried out loudly, only growing more shrill as Jon yanked the bat out of his side, leaving the wire coated in blood as the hooked barbs ripped through the skin, practically shredding it. </p>
<p>Kenny staggered back. The wounds were all superficial, but they still burned white-hot and gushed red. Kenny touched the wounds before glancing at his crimson coated fingers, and glaring. The playing field wasn't quite level yet, and the Cleaner couldn't let it get any closer than it already was.</p>
<p>He took another hit, this time to the back. He dropped to his knees and let out a deep groan of pain, almost enjoying how it hurt. He pulled himself up on the ropes, executing a perfect kick on instinct and adrenaline alone. </p>
<p>That bought him enough time to bring another element to this game.</p>
<p>He pulled a black cloth bag from under the ring. It had a drawstring, and wasn't that large. It was about half the size of a bag you would get at a grocery store.</p>
<p>Kenny opened it, to double-check it contained what he needed. He sighed slightly in frustration, and hit it against the ring post several times before he was satisfied with the status of the object inside</p>
<p>He got back inside the ring, opening the bag and tipping out it's contents. Gradually, spreading them evenly around a spot on the canvas, about a metre in diameter. The tinkling of broken glass filled both men's ears, as the pieces spilled from the bag. It sounded vaguely like a wind chime </p>
<p>Moxley's head snapped up to look at him, the wild look in his eyes an odd combination of "are you serious" and "I can't wait to throw you in that pile of broken glass", if the latter could even be shown in a facial expression. </p>
<p>In this brief flicker of weakness, Kenny delivered another sudden kick to the head, setting up for a snapdragon suplex, ready to throw him into the deadly carpet of glass shards.</p>
<p>But he even though he was had the position locked in, he stopped, pulling Moxley back the way they had come. It wasn't out of remorse, though. </p>
<p>Kenny locked in the sharpshooter. A submission hold that puts immense pressure on the legs, and leaves most tapping out within moments.</p>
<p>And, the only available escape from the agony was crawling through the scattered glass on the ring floor to reach the ropes. He let out a cry of raw frustration, but he knew there was no other way. </p>
<p>He began to crawl, pressing his hands into the broken glass. He let out a shuddery breath at the piercing pain in his hands, but he didn't stop. He dragged himself forward, feeling the shards cut through the skin of his forearms.</p>
<p>He desperately reached for the bottom rope, pulling himself out of the ring, at the cost of his torso touching the glass. He let out a gasp of relief when he managed to escape the ring.</p>
<p>He stumbled to his feet, trying to pick some of the glass out of his wounds.</p>
<p>Kenny smiled from his vantage point in the ring. He took a few steps back, before sprinting forward and leaping over the rope. He let his momentum carry his legs over his head completing the 360 degree turn. He flawlessly executing the perfect suicide dive, knocking Jon to the floor.</p>
<p>They fought their way up the ramp, to the top of the stage. Moxley lingered in front of one of the signs for a moment too long, and Kenny ran at him, leaping and lifting his knee, striking him right between the eyes. They fell through sign, and Kenny couldn't help but let out a cheer of triumph.</p>
<p>He got back up, and pointed beside the ramp. Matt and Nick carried the net like structure to the spot where Kenny had pointed. It was about 8 feet across, 7 in length. Regret was already on each of their faces and Hangman was looking at Kenny with an expression of worry.</p>
<p>He got Moxley up on his shoulders, reaching for his head, preparing for the One-Winged Angel. He stopped for a moment, to take it all in. To save the moment in memory.</p>
<p>A fatal mistake.</p>
<p>Before he could process what was going on, Mox was no longer on his shoulders, and he was about to be suplexed into the barbed wire net.</p>
<p>He fought it, with what little he had left, but he could feel himself falling. It felt like time<br/>
had frozen. The bloodthirsty cheers of delight and glee or surprise and horror seem to fade into the background until the blinding pain in his back pulls him back out of his head.</p>
<p>These barbs are hooked too, and he’s stuck, tangled in the net of wire.  His foot is hooked in a few loops of wire. </p>
<p>With his already cut hands, he begins to free himself, yanking the barbs out of his skin. He can feel the warm blood gradually seeping out of the minuscule punctures each barb made. Matt and Nick assisted him in untangling his foot, and finally, he was back on solid ground. </p>
<p>Moxley had located a knife, slicing the canvas, tossing it aside, along with the negligible padding underneath, exposing the wooden boards below them.  He put the knife back under the ring.</p>
<p>Kenny could feel his heart sink just a little. He  was so tired and in so much pain and he felt like a fool. But that didn’t mean he was going to crumble and give in.</p>
<p>He ascended the turnbuckle, calling upon the one thing he knew. The one thing that gave him a chance. A little “fuck you” cherry on an “I’m the best” sundae.</p>
<p>A Phoenix splash. Kota’s move. He’s briefly distracted at the memories, but soon he goes for it. He’s falling, he can feel himself falling, and the feeling of time being on pause gives him enough time to daydream about Kota Ibushi.</p>
<p>He still loved him. He supposed this move was a little message to Ibushi. To the world, it was just another move. But when Kota watched this, he would know that Kenny had been thinking of him. </p>
<p>He was moving on as days went by. He was falling in love with another, and it was okay, but he’d be lying if he said he didn’t miss Kota more than anything in this world.</p>
<p>The moment was too long and too short and soon he had Moxley pinned. A two count.</p>
<p>He almost sobbed with frustration. He had tried everything. Moxley had him ready for the paradigm shift and his head collided with the exposed wood, stunning him. His mind wandered to anything but what was happening, trying to circumvent the pain he was in. </p>
<p>Images of his friends, his family, Kota. Everything rushed through his head, like this was some kind of near death experience. </p>
<p>When he came to, he heard Moxley’s music. He was looking up at the lights, exhaustedly. It felt like it took hours to get to his feet. He staggered to the locker room, bruised and bleeding, bearing a tapestry of battle scars all over his arms and torso, and a slight black eye.</p>
<p>He fell into a pair of strong arms, and looked up to see Adam Hangman Page.</p>
<p>“You survived this.” He whispered softly, running his fingers through Kenny’s blood-matted hair. </p>
<p>“Even though you had to clench your fists and grit your teeth, you got through it. Even with never-ending wounds, you survived it.” Adam continued to reassure. </p>
<p>Kenny’s hands gripped the t-shirt Adam was wearing, just needing something to hang onto. His knees had buckled and he was on the edge of breaking down. Adam was holding him up so he didn’t fall. He could barely imagine the pain his lover must be in right now.</p>
<p>“But I lost.” Kenny’s voice is fractured and hoarse, and Adam can feel his heart breaking. “Even when I used the Cleaner, I still failed!” The man in his arms let out a sound that could have been a multitude of things. A whimper, a sob, a plea for comfort. </p>
<p>“Even the Phoenix Splash... Kota’s move... failed me...” Kenny looked down, big, wet tears falling down his face.</p>
<p>He had never seen Kenny’s composure slip like this. He was so used to being the one who needed to be held and soothed, and even when Kenny was having a bad day, this wasn’t how it would go. </p>
<p>Usually, Adam would smile at him reassuringly and take him out to get fast food. They’d go to an arcade, and Kenny would kick his ass at street fighter or any other arcade machine until they were kicked out because of the time. Even when Kenny thought everything in his world was crashing down, all it usually took was some cheap sushi and a few quarters to get his smile back.</p>
<p>But this was different. He wondered if Kenny had been lying to him. Pretending to feel better for the sake of Adam’s feelings.</p>
<p>The thought that Kenny was trying to protect Adam, even when he was the one that needed comfort, both shattered him and made him fall even deeper in love with his tag team partner.</p>
<p>Seeing him in this state was painful. Prideful Kenny, who was always smiling, breaking down in his arms. But he didn’t think any less of Kenny. He couldn’t think any better of him than he already did.</p>
<p>“On the mornings when you feel worthless and small... I hope you remember that you gave him hell. You won in my heart, Kenny. You showed him, you showed everyone what you can do. I’m so proud of you.” Adam brushes his fingertips across Kenny’s cheek and smiled softly down at him. </p>
<p>“You were given an impossible mountain to climb, and you still climbed it to get to the other side. Because you’re that strong, Kenny. Every day you surpass any expectations I could have for you.” </p>
<p>Kenny pushes up onto his tiptoes and kissed him. He was holding on tight, not wanting to let go for even a second.</p>
<p>“‘M sorry... I’m probably getting blood all over you.” </p>
<p>“It’ll wash out, and if it doesn’t, I’ll just look badass.” He chuckled. “Let’s get you to the doc, and then we’ll take you back to the hotel to get some sleep. Does that sound good?”</p>
<p>Kenny nodded softly, wiping away his tears. </p>
<p>“I love you, Cowboy.”</p>
<p>“I love you too, angel.”</p>
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